


Pretense

by A (AILiSeki)



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 20:47:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20823557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AILiSeki/pseuds/A
Summary: Not everything is about Beatrice.





	Pretense

**Author's Note:**

> I found this yesterday in my drafts

There was a reason why he kept using every chance to mention Beatrice, a reason that made him very ashamed, and it had little to do with her.

Not that he didn’t love her, or that any of the words he typed about her were lies. He loved her, and he wished they could have married, and he was haunted every night by what could have been and never was. But though he would never admit it to anyone (not that there was anyone to admit it to), he knew deep inside that making it all about Beatrice made it all much easier.

The story of a man still deeply in love with a dead woman who broke his heart was a timeless classic. People loved it, so it didn’t matter that he was a public enemy or that her children were public enemies as well. There was something in it that made him more likable, his mission nobler.

The same couldn’t be said about the story of a man who was still deep in love with that dead woman but who also made terrible mistakes and had his share of terrible affairs with terrible people.

He felt a sickness in his stomach when he thought of it. He had promised to tell nothing but the truth, even when it hurt or got ugly. So much had been done to cover it through the years. He owed that to everyone.

But some truths were easier to tell than others. It was painfully easier to describe the burned remains of what once was a loving home or the universal pain of loss. It was easy to tell of the noble deeds of his loved ones and of the injustice they suffered. It was easy to even speak of evil when he had seen its true face.

It was harder to admit he had been wrong. It was harder to accept that it is not easy to tell a wicked person from a noble one because such things keep changing, and it was harder to confess you know it because you have once pushed someone over the edge.

It was harder, but he felt he could do it eventually. He had to.

The impossible was to put into words that the man who ruined his and so many others’ lives had the most enchanting blue eyes.


End file.
